


My heart out the window

by Msgay



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clueless Bernie, F/F, serena with a secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 06:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19126453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Msgay/pseuds/Msgay
Summary: There’s a prostitute every night on the corner of Bernie’s new apartment. The woman has a secret... Bernie really doesn't want to fall for a straight prostitute but the universe is against her.





	My heart out the window

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a friend's idea, she has since left the fandom but didn't mind me taking over. Originally written in first person but I didn't like the flow... As a non-native speaker rewriting was actually harder so I hope you won't find many mistakes.

There’s a prostitute every night on the corner of Bernie’s new apartment. It doesn’t ruffle her feathers, so after a while she starts greeting her with a serious nod. Bernie doesn’t even notice when the woman starts nodding back, misses the fact that it becomes routine.

Bernie only truly looks at her the first time she greets the trauma surgeon, full of bravado, with an “evening” that makes Bernie blush. She replies with a tight smile.

Sometimes Bernie has friends over but mostly it’s just her. As the buzzer hasn’t worked since she moved in, she comes down in her fluffy pink robe to let her guests in. The landlord should’ve disclosed it but Bernie just thought it would be fine since she has few guests. She had forgotten to take into account the mailman; the old neighbour who gets confused; Amazon; and food delivery several times a week as she hates cooking for one. At the start she took it in stride and thought of it as exercise; these days when her friends visit she drops her keys through the window.

Bernie recovers proudly from her blushes and starts greeting the prostitute with a smile that takes over her face and heart when the woman smiles back. Small talk even starts happening in what seems to be a natural and easy flow. Bernie Wolfe could still surprise herself, apparently.

When the rain season starts Bernie worries she won’t see the woman as much; she tries not to think about how seeing her smile and their trivial small talk have become the highlight of her day. Sometimes at work or on the bus Bernie daydreams about talking to her for hours; relives the time they first spoke…

Bernie has seen prostitutes before, of course. Some were beautiful, some were scary, some defiant and many seemed broken inside and out. This woman has a light in her eyes Bernie yearned to reach; it was almost as if she was the only person alive among the undead and you didn’t know you were dead until you saw her. Her smile was more than a light at the end of the tunnel, it was a guiding light showing you the way home. Bernie hadn’t had a home in decades and it felt terrifying to glimpse at a possibility of one. Normally Bernie would have run away or hid until such opportunity vanished from her reality, this time… Well, who could walk away from _that_?

Bernie was walking home under heavy rain and trying to decide what to order when she spotted the object of her daydreams under the world’s tinniest umbrella, looking so small and cold Bernie’s heart constricted.     

“Please don’t get a crush on the corner prostitute.” She half-begged her own heart.

They greet each other and politely moan about the rain. Summoning her courage, while at the same time mentally moaning that such a small thing could require courage at all, Bernie offers her umbrella.

“Take it. It’s almost four times bigger than yours and I’m already home.” The woman looks at Bernie with an unreadable and hard expression. Bernie thinks this woman would be amazing at poker night if her presence wasn’t so nerve wrecking. Silence seems bigger than her small offer.

“…or, or don’t and continue to get soaked…I’ll just…just leave it here and you’ll make sure my expensive golf umbrella doesn’t get stolen, alright?” Bernie enters the building really fast and rushes up the stairs, all ideas for ordering in dismissed as that would entail going back downstairs and facing that poker face or the raised eyebrow. The next morning Bernie’s umbrella is on her mat, just a bit damp. A sadness she can’t explain engulfs her and follows her through the day. She sped walk home and got indoors in record time, minimizing small talk which was meant to abate her sadness but it increases tenfold.

It’s the weekend and Bernie doesn’t have plans. She wants to watch Gene Kelly films with pizza and sushi but she really doesn’t want to go downstairs. “It’s not even rational!” she moans. After pacing up and down in her living room she decides to call her poker mates and adds an unusual amount of food requests.

For the first time in years Bernie plays in auto-pilot, barely aware of what is happening; she can’t even tell who is winning. All Bernie’s mind seems to be able to do is to remind her over and over again how she seems to only know disappointment and heartache; how she always goes after uninterested parties; how she forgives people who’ve hurt her several times… all in the hope that she will be loved, that one day she will be enough; that maybe one day she will be someone’s reason to wake up in the morning with a smile. Perhaps, Bernie wonders, by forgiving so much she can one day forgive herself for her harshly judged shortcomings. Perhaps she can accept her own humanity and be able to look at herself in the mirror.

Someone nudges her out of her inner therapy session as it is her turn to play. The game is over later than usual, all her friends tacitly agree to stay longer and cheer her up. It’s almost day out when Bernie finally gets rid of them after making sure she paid them back for all the snacks and frozen food.

She hops in the shower almost as the doorbell rings. Typical. Expecting more worried looks from her friends or a forgotten phone Bernie opens the door badly wrapped in a towel and stands there facing her smiling crush. She looks different; almost no make-up, long loose trousers, a flowing blouse and – her stomach hurts now -, a blonde wig that clearly a client asked her to wear. Bernie starts feeling an increasing amount of saliva in her mouth and thinks she might vomit. The woman stopped smiling and followed Bernie’s eyes, and hastily removes the wig.

“It’s not what you think! I, I didn’t want to be recognised coming here.” Bernie is barely controlling her breathing and clings to her towel for dear life. “You really don’t look well…” Bernie remains frozen. “I thought I’d introduce myself and, and thank you properly for the umbrella… but now I’m worried you are going to faint or vomit all over my shoes…” Bernie takes a deep breath and welcomes her in while mumbling something about drinking too much, luckily the apartment looks like she feels.

“hm. I, I’m Bernie.” She extends her hand still wary of her towel.

“Serena.” Bernie can’t handle her smile and excuses herself to get changed but it was really to get her bearings.

“I thought poker night was on the first Saturday of the month?” Bernie’s head snaps around and she looks at Serena suspiciously. She smiles and shrugs.

“So I pay attention, sue me…”

After a few minutes Bernie comes back, still pale, and they both clear up a bit so they can sit – safely apart – on the sofa and share a glass of wine. They talk for hours about everything and nothing at all, really. Bernie’s impressive bookshelves helps to break the multiple layers of ice and shyness. For lunch they share leftover cold pizza and laughter. It’s early afternoon when Serena has to leave and even Bernie must admit she is quite sleepy. As Serena walks out she turns to Bernie and with a shy smile thanks her once more for the umbrella.

“It was a kind gesture.”

Bernie looks at her feet for a second and then back at Serena. She has a strange pensive expression, like she has been cataloging Bernie’s facial expressions and is considering where to put this one. Bernie wants to dismiss Serena’s comment, say ‘don’t mention it’ or ‘no problem’ except that would somehow shrink this small thing inside her that seems to grow only in Serena’s presence.

“Anytime.”

As she watches Serena leave she wonders if they will be able to stay friends without Bernie falling in love or if it is too late already.

The sunrise drink soon becomes a ritual on Fridays and then Saturdays, then coffees on Bernie’s way to work and Serena’s walk home. Bernie found it hard to navigate getting to know Serena without asking personal questions, ‘How did you become a prostitute?’ doesn’t make for a good breakfast conversation. She needn’t worry, Serena speaks freely about everything except her job.

Weeks fly by. Bernie isn’t surprised to realise she is in love with Serena, she is perfection in human form. Why the universe would make her fall for a straight prostitute, she has no idea. Bernie decides to go with it until the inevitable heartache of watching Serena get a client; or come out of a car with her amazing black dress rumpled… or her worse case scenario, Serena telling her about some guy across town sweeping her off her feet and making Serena feel like she is the perfect song he had been wanting to hear all his life.

About four months later Bernie gets a text from Serena asking if they can talk that night. It’s a Tuesday so normally they just have quick small talk, both wanting the moment to last longer and with Bernie feeling anxious to go inside as not to watch Serena pick up some man.

Bernie immediately agrees but work, life, the universe are against her and she is over 3 hours late and fretting because Serena isn’t answering her calls or messages. _This is it,_ Bernie panics _. This is how your heart breaks and this time you won’t even know why._ She runs home but Serena isn’t there. Instead there are lots of police cars and one ambulance. Bernie starts praying silently while running up to the policewoman behind the cordon. Bernie finds out it was a drug bust, a few arrests including her upstairs neighbour. A drug lab in her own building and she didn’t suspect anything, her army buddies won’t let her live this one down. But how could Bernie notice anything but Serena? After being blinded by her smile. After they talked and connected, and Bernie felt alive and electric like never before. Bernie asks the policewoman, nonchalantly, if any prostitutes were arrested as well. The officer seems to find that question odd and begins to dismiss Bernie.

“Please! I..We, I, she is my friend. I don’t care. I, I can pay for, for a solicitor, maybe? Will she get conditional or unconditional bail, you know?” Bernie knows she is talking too fast but can’t seem to stop. The policewoman seems to be studying her carefully. Bernie was ready to beg. The officer tells her to go to a police station near the tube station and Bernie hops into a taxi. By the time she arrives her heartbeat is erratic and she considers going to the hospital instead.

Bernie takes a steadying breath and repeats mentally to be calm and polite. However, her voice alternates between begging in a panicky shriek and barking orders like in her previous life. After causing quite the scene she is taken through a long corridor and is offered a seat in an interrogation room, the officer leaves her alone and leaves the door open. Bernie starts to believe she was brought into the room either because they now suspect her as well or to tell her the ambulance was actually for Serena. Like in bad film, Serena was the drug lord’s side piece who betrayed him and paid the ultimate price. After five or six similar scenarios Bernie gets up in a rush and vomits half in the bin in the corner, half on the wall.

“Why are you always sick when I come to see you?” There she was… Beautiful as ever. Smiling so hard Bernie wants to cry. Serena is also wearing a police officer’s uniform. Bernie gives her a confused expression and smile. “I heard you made quite the commotion at reception”, Serena quips as she helps Bernie up and hands her some tissues. Bernie sits with wobbly legs and listens to Serena’s story as she sips her water carefully. Serena, the undercover cop, was meant to gather evidence until the police had enough evidence to arrest and charge Bernie’s neighbour, Mr. Hanlon. Getting to know Bernie was not part of the plan. Serena pauses and smiles while hesitating for a few seconds.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with my suspect’s gorgeous, very female, neighbour.” Bernie feels giddy and numb at the same time. After a beat or two she reaches out and holds Serena’s hands; Bernie’s heartbeat calms down for the first time since lunch.

“Wait. Very female?” Serena laughs.

“It would’ve have made more sense if you had been a man, it was what I was used to, I guess… but I have no doubt in my heart that I love you.” Bernie smiles full of hope and happiness of having her dream come true - she stops suddenly to ponder.

“No wonder you never seemed to have any clients.” They laugh so loud it draws attention from other police officers. Serena suggests meeting after she has finished all her paperwork. Bernie doesn’t even remember she is coming from a double shift.

“You can drop your keys and my heart will come up to meet you.” It’s so saccharine Serena seems surprised with herself, she vehemently hopes none of her colleagues heard her. Bernie gives her such a loving expression it’s hard to resist kissing her, she just can’t be sure her partner Ric isn’t behind the glass.

“Make sure you bring my heart up too then, I gave it to you months ago.” Bernie wants to close the gap between them and kiss Serena so bad she feels her muscles tense up. She tells herself they can wait until they are alone, they have their wholes wonderful lives ahead now.


End file.
